Spanner in the Works
by BamfIsAwesome
Summary: Rick left for Earth after the Alwas Cycle; there was nothing left for him in the world of racing. What if it hadn't happened that way? What if Rick had remembered that Molly was in danger?
1. Make Way!

**First Oban Star Racers fic! Yay! Basically, what would have happened if Rick had gone on to Oban with the Earth Team. I'm gonna go a little crazy with this, and Rick's gonna play a pretty big part in it. He doesn't get enough love! So, starts during episode 13 with one major difference; Rick wore a Navajo charm bracelet made by his mother when going to see that Scrub shaman. It stopped Rick's memories from being erased completely- he remembers everything except the vision itself, though he is aware he had it, and he glimpses it through dreams.**

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><p>A muscular arm rubbed at usually-hidden eyes, before a tap was turned off. Sighing tiredly, Rick slipped his dark glasses on and leaned heavily on the sink basin. <em>'Come on, Rick,'<em> he thought frustratedly, staring at his reflection, _'get it together. Molly— Eva… Little Mouse is having her last qualifier today. She could be in danger and you can't remember a damn thing!' _He growled low in his throat and closed his eyes, his head dropping a little. For an instant, in his mind, he saw a great, blood-red eye filled with malice; his head snapped up as his eyes flew open, and it was gone, slipping from his consciousness even as he gasped in shock.

"Damn it!" He yelled aloud, fighting the urge to break something. He didn't usually lose his temper like this, but when he did it measured in at a 7.8 on the Richter scale. He glared at his reflection again. He _knew_ what he had just fleetingly recalled, before losing it again, had to have been either from his vision or the nightmare he had last night _(or from one of the nights before)_. Either way, it was important and he _couldn't remember!_

Shaking his head slightly, Rick turned away and took up the sterling silver and turquoise charm bracelet from the table and fastened it around his left wrist. He didn't care what Don said about it; the shaman he had sought out had called it a 'powerful protective charm' and if it might help, then he was wearing it. He didn't doubt the shaman, nor the woman who made the charm— she'd never led him wrong before— and he could pass it off as a good luck charm to avoid an argument if necessary.

His hand reached into his pocket and pulled out the stone medallion, glaring briefly at thef sinister engraving. _'No matter what, I won't let anyone else— especially Little Miss Wei— get hurt because of this… Timeless One.' _His mind set, he slipped the object back into his pocket and left for the hangar. He wanted to help with rebuilding the ship, and they only had a few hours before the race.

* * *

><p>Jordan smiled, glancing around once more, watching his team and the Scrub mechanics working fast as lightning on the new ship. <em>New ship…<em> ooh, he could feel the excitement already! Shivers running up his spine in anticipation, he turned his attention back to the task at hand. One of the mechanics was starting to hoist a large and important component down to Jordan, along with one of the Scrubs, and they reached out as it was lowered and grasped it firmly, but as the rope slackened further he realised just how unprepared he was for the full weight of it. He wasn't the only one; the Scrub made a shocked sound as they both tilted forwards, a disaster in the making—

They suddenly stopped short before tipping point, most of the component's weight having caught on something… very solid. Looking up, the gunner was surprised to find none other than Rick Thunderbolt grinning down at him. For a moment, Jordan was consumed with envy; he would never, not in ten thousand years_,_ ever get that strong. It passed, and he grinned back, only for it to fall when Rick actually _lifted the machinery out of his hands._

He caught the grunt of exertion as Rick did so and spoke up, since the Scrub was too shocked to move. "Hey, you don't have to do that, y'know." He didn't want to admit it out loud, as he didn't want to upset the man, but he was a little worried about Rick's… condition.

Rick shrugged as best he could. "I want to. Better than sitting around being useless." He turned and all but marched over to where the component was to be fitted. Stunned, and not sure what else to do, Jordan followed. He watched in silence as the machinery was handed over and a Scrub started to fix it to the ship-in-progress. "Anything else I can do?"

Jordan started slightly as the Scrub mechanic scoffed. "Depends." He answered, turning to the large man, his voice mocking. "You know how to wire up a converter?"

"Sure." Rick shot back, smirking. "Me and some pals back on Earth built three dune-buggy drag-racers outta junk from a desert scrapheap. I think I can handle a power converter." He lifted an eyebrow, challenging.

The Scrub's expression lost its mocking edge. "Well, then, get to it!"

Grinning, Rick stood up ramrod-straight and saluted. "Yessir!" He pivoted on his heel, hair flaring out behind him and bee lined for the aforementioned converter, a speechless Jordan hot on his heels.

"Is that true?" The boy burst out finally, as they reached the converter. "Did you really build your own desert racers?"

The ex-pilot nodded. "Sure did. Four of us. My first racing experience, way back when. I was…" he whistled softly, "damn, had to be fifteen. Was that really ten years ago?" Shaking himself after a moment, Rick started on the converter, expertly wielding the tools laid out around him.

Jordan's generously-sized eyebrows nearly reached his hairline. Was there nothing this man couldn't do?

"Don't ask me to put up a shelf or make you a Halloween costume, I still have nightmares about flat-pack furniture and hell if I can remember my own phone number." Jordan blushed embarrassedly in the face of Rick's smirk. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"I figured."

Or that.

The hangar was constantly alive with activity. Scrubs and humans ran back and forth, welding, wiring, and carrying equipment. Don Wei watched all of this impassively, looking it over. As he had already pointed out, they weren't fixing their old racer; they were building a whole new one. Now, though, his attention had been drawn to his former pilot.

Rick had taken to this whole situation like… well, like he had to racing. Though previously quiet about his personal life among the team, he now regaled them with tales of his teenage years in those battered, home-made racers Don vaguely remembered, even as he helped with the less technical of the mechanical work. (He had to admit, it felt good to see Rick back to his old self once more. He always loved sharing stories with Don, back when the older man was still his manager.)

When Stan had first laid eyes on the power converter's wiring, he had called it crude whilst Koji had opted for the more polite term, unorthodox. Both he and Koji had looked more closely, and had seen that though it wasn't the used and approved technique, it certainly worked. That was something Don had learned early on in Rick's career; if you wanted something doing properly, get someone else to do it. However, not doing it 'properly' didn't necessarily mean doing it badly.

He'd also noticed that Rick was wearing that bloody bracelet again. Don hadn't seen it in years— he hadn't even known the ex-pilot had brought it with him. Truth be told, he'd forgotten all about it. He recognised it easily enough though; different shapes and sizes of turquoise stone of varying shades of green, lots of little silver charms (_a feather, whirligig, some butterflies, a gecko, snake, dragonfly and many more)_,all thrown together in a way that should have looked slapdash and mismatched. Yet it didn't.

He decided to let it slide. A little extra luck wouldn't go amiss at this point.

Don was distracted by the sound of someone tinkering behind him, and turned to see Satis, of all people, fiddling with some machinery. The old… creature was certainly there for a reason, and Don was determined to get it over with, so he approached without hesitation— hopefully before something important was "fixed" beyond repair.

* * *

><p>"Isn't she beautiful? Stronger… faster… safer."<p>

"The Whizzing Arrow III!"

The team stood in a v-formation before the ship, admiring their work, the Scrub mechanics off to the side in a group. Stan and Koji were smudged with oil and grease and engine fluid, having been putting on some finishing touches whilst everyone else cleaned up. Their pride in their work, all of them, was palpable.

Rick took it in. It had looked good whilst things were still being put together; the finished thing was positively gorgeous. Not for the first time, but stronger than it had been in days, he felt that longing, that sorrowful, it's-never-gonna-happen _**want**_. He wanted to fly in this racer. This racer that he helped to build. He wanted to sit in her cockpit, feel her thrum to life beneath him, respond to his motions and commands. Needed that speed, that adrenaline rush. He wanted to fly, to be free. It physically _ached_.

He couldn't. This ship was not for him. "A brand new ship," he muttered, trying to ease the pain, sending a glance towards Molly's ecstatic face, "for a brand new champion."

He was happy for her, proud of her. It just hurt.

"_That's an eagle. A kind of bird."_

"_It's so high up, Mommy!"_

"_Uh huh, it's flying. There's nothing like it, you know."_

"_I want to fly! I want to be up in the sky too!"_

"_You will one day, Hunter. I know you will. Higher than all the rest!"_

"_Higher than _everyone?_"_

"_Damn right! No one will ever bring you down."_

'_Sorry, Mom. My wings have been well and truly clipped. I'm grounded, for good.'_

The sound of rubber soles on metal caught everyone's attention. Rick knew Don Wei well, and he did not like what he saw.

Jordan kept beaming. To him and everyone else, it was just grumpy old Don. "Well, sir, what's the verdict?"

Don glanced at the Whizzing Arrow III distractedly as he continued past. "Yeah, looks great." Oh, the enthusiasm. This wasn't going to be good.

Jordan and the others had finally cottoned on to Don's mood, and the collective atmosphere dropped as Stan and Koji moved in closer, having been thanking the Scrubs.

"I have the name of our next adversary." He announced, his expression tight and grim. "We're up against Colonel Toros."

"_WHAT!_" Jordan cried, "But he's never lost a race!" His countenance drooped. "Ever."

Molly's reaction was, in Rick's mind, worse. She simply hugged herself, looking at the floor. "And he nearly crushed us to a pancake last time."

Don sounded positively indignant, incredulous even; but the lines around his mouth and furrowed brow belied his true feelings, to Rick at least. "This team has improved tremendously since we lost to Toros!"

The ex-pilot took in Stan and Koji's stances, then looked to Molly and Jordan's forlorn faces.

Don had noticed too. "Fill the tanks and run the final checks, right now!" he cried, clearly trying to be motivational and failing. Both of his previous racers had been pretty capable of motivating themselves, one way or another; with Rick it had involved some excitable yelling, usually, which was likely where Don was getting this from. "We'll be called at any moment now!"

"Yes sir!"

"We're on it!"

Molly and Jordan shared a look. The latter gestured slightly. "Uhh… after you, partner."

Molly's expression sank a little more, and she moved onwards, a now further disheartened Jordan close behind. She sent a look at Don as she walked past him. His expression didn't change.

Not until they were a ways beyond his line of sight did he let his uncertainty show through. Rick wasn't sure how to respond. In the end, he simply averted his gaze and let it sink to the floor— only for his eyes to fall on his bracelet.

He set his jaw. No way would they win with this mindset. He looked up as Molly settled into the cockpit. He spoke before Don could. "Don't worry so much."

Everyone froze, their eyes turned to him. He smiled for them. "It won't be as bad as last time, honest. You've raced him once, seen what he's capable of. You're not gonna let him catch you from behind again, are you? 'Fool me once', and all that." He surveyed the team, and he broke out in a sly grin. "Besides, I got a look in on the new hyperdrive." He raised an eyebrow. "I don't think the Colonel will be quite as much trouble this time around."

He gave a mental cheer as Molly brightened, and Jordan spoke up. "Yeah! No Crog's gonna catch us out twice!"

'_Much better.' _He met Molly's thankful smile with a thumbs up and glanced at Don, who had his own brand of gratitude showing on his face.

The older man became stern again as he turned to the Whizzing Arrow III. "_Remember_, to rank among the top three teams and qualify for Oban, we _must beat Toros_, at all costs!"

Molly gave a determined smile, but still glanced at Rick, seeking reassurance that he gave as well as he could.

They could do this. He knew they could.

* * *

><p>"<em>Toros or no Toros, no one stands between the Ultimate Prize and me. Not even a Crog!"<em>

That was what she had said to herself after Rick's little pep talk. She was beyond glad he was here; her father sucked at making people feel better, no matter the context.

"We now call forth: the Earth Team!" That was their cue. Molly brought the new racer up into the starting arena, the steering not as responsive as she'd like. As they waited for the start, both she and Jordan made little adjustments to maximise efficiency.

"How does she feel?" Koji's voice filtered into the cockpit.

"The steering feels a bit stiff but, I'll get used to it." She smiled assuringly at the little screen. Koji smiled back. She knew her father and Rick were behind Koji, out of the screen's line of sight. She pictured Don's stern face, and Rick's encouraging smile. She couldn't see it, but she could feel it. Rick believed in her. And when you've got a superstar ex-racing pilot believing in you, you're set so long as you believe in yourself, right?

She'd heard the stories he was telling hours before; he'd been racing like a pro in the Sonoran desert at her age, before he'd met Don Wei, and he was her coach. This Crog wouldn't stand a chance!

Right?

"Challenged by: Toros, Colonel of the Crog Imperium!"

The blades of the Crog ship glinted menacingly in the sunlight as it slowly emerged. The crowd was silent, unwilling to cheer but too afraid to boo as they once had the Earth Team.

Molly watched the ship lazily pull up beside her, the small yellow lights on the front of the main body looking like glowing eyes. She turned forward once more. Her concentration would not be broken. She would win.

The stone passageway opened up fully _(she could have sworn she could hear Rush cheering for her, but, he was in the hospital)_ and she grit her teeth, twisting hard on the accelerator. She managed to pull out in front of Toros. _'Earth Team: 1, Crogs: nil. Let's keep it that way.' _

Back at the Earth Team's base, Don frowned at Molly's understeer on the turn, sending the Whizzing Arrow III into the wall and giving Toros the lead. "Molly, what's wrong?" He asked urgently.

"It's a new star-racer, just let me get the hang of it!" They watched with baited breath as she got the steering down and started speeding up.

A sudden rustle, a clamorous _clinking_ that one would imagine a small shrub to sound like in the wind if it was made of polished stone and metal, distracted him, and he glanced sideways to see Rick lower his left arm back into the folded position he had ostensibly extricated it from. Damn, he'd forgotten about that little habit. He'd be utterly mad by the end of this race, he just knew it.

Rick smiled as Molly caught up with the Crog battleship. _'That's my girl.'_ His eyes flicked to Don, the look hidden behind his shades, and remembered just how much that habitual twitch of his wrist pissed the man off. His smile grew, and he momentarily lifted his arm and twisted said wrist once more, gently shaking the charm bracelet again, the delightful clink-tinkling sound soothing him. He was pretty sure his former manager's eye just twitched.

Back in the cockpit, Molly was determined to get back in the lead. "Let's see what she's got!" She went in for an edge, trying to slip past, but the ship's blades turned and pushed them into the wall, forcing them back again.

Jordan wasn't best pleased. "Outta my way, Crog!" He aimed the lasers and open fired, but Toros flipped and spun out of the way, dodging every shot. Molly set her jaw and sped up, giving Jordan another edge and coming in alongside the Crog ship to give Jordan a better spot for firing. He grinned, taking advantage, and all but cheered as Toros dropped back from the assault. If he hadn't had his hands full, he'd be kissing his dog tags. _'That's for my grandfather!'_

As they pulled out into the open, they had several seconds where the battleship seemed to have disappeared. The gunner glanced around, trying to catch sight of him. "Okay, I'm having a bit of déjà-vu back here…"

His mind flashed back to their last race against Toros, how he had exploded out of nowhere from behind them and cut the Whizzing Arrow II into pieces. They couldn't let that happen again. Fool me once… "We need some speed, Molly!"

Don was gritting his teeth so hard he thought they might crack. This was exactly what happened last time. If Toros—

"For God's sakes, man, cease that infernal jangling!" The younger man didn't even have the decency to look sheepish.

"Sorry, Don." He apologised, not meaning a word of it. "It's a nervous thing." He'd be smirking if he weren't so focused on the race.

It didn't take long for Toros to up his game. Jordan saw him coming and fired, but he was quite a ways back, and it wasn't long before the blades were edged with crackling, burning yellow. His speed increased exponentially. It was happening all over again.

"MOLLY!"

She turned, looking back at the approaching ship; she had to time this perfectly. He wouldn't cut her down again. Closer… closer…

She went for an edge and kept going, flipping up and over as Toros raced underneath them. He barely scratched the paintwork. The pilot grinned triumphantly as they settled at a steady altitude again.

"Nice try, Toros. You can't fool me twice!" That reminded her, "Stan, Rick mentioned the hyperdrive?"

"Roger that! Same commands as before." Well, duh. That was just sensible. She pressed all the right buttons, and started slightly as she felt more than heard several mechanisms shifting around her; more than last time.

'_Rick wasn't kidding. They've really tricked her out!'_

Dark eyes wide, Don spoke breathlessly, blue light flowing from the image of the Arrow III on the screen. "How can we achieve such speed?"

Koji smiled modestly, pushing his glasses back up onto his face. "It was easy, really. We mounted the turbines and clusters— that was my idea. It nearly doubles their capacity!"

Rick grinned, and this time Don barely noticed when his wrist twitched. _'Go on, Little Mouse. You can do it.'_

However, whilst Stan was telling Molly about how they'd upped the fuel capacity, Toros had hit whatever kind of little boost button he had in that monster. A burst of violet light, and he left them behind.

"How in the world did that happen?" She didn't have time to dwell. "Koji, can we make this baby go faster?"

Koji looked at Stan. Stan looked back. Rick's heart sank. "Well?" Don butted in impatiently, "Yes or no!"

"Stan, what about the—"

"_Totally_ out of the question!" Both Don and Rick were stunned by the outburst. "The Arrow's hull could break apart under the thrust!" Stan had to be honest; he, Koji and the Scrubs had gotten carried away when building the Whizzing Arrow III. The boosters were awesome, and they'd felt epic making and fitting them, but practically? It was under their 'work in progress' list.

Rick thinned his lips and looked back at the screen. They'd just have to make do.

Naturally, Don didn't agree. He growled and ground his teeth, hands tightly fisted. Rick caught his twitch too late and grimaced as the older man's shoulders seized. He muttered an apology.

"_Hello-o?_" Molly, as impatient as her father, and also as adept at butting in. "_Toros is getting away!_"

Stan shook his head sadly. "We haven't had chance to test it. It's just not safe yet."

Don couldn't let this slide. They couldn't lose. He placed a hand on Stan's shoulder. "We have no other choice."

Rick protested. Don cut him off. "_I assume full responsibility!_"

"… I do this under protest."

All sound left Rick's awareness. He was focused entirely on that ship, on his _(yes, __**his**__)_ Little Mouse, and their gunner boy, and all the different boosters and other go-faster mechanisms springing to life. Watching the cockpit's outer casing darken from orange to red.

He didn't hear Stan's incredulous, hope-filled cry that the hull was holding. He could see that for himself. He found himself beaming as Molly blasted past Toros. It could just have been him, but the straights seemed longer this time. Despite the fact the Arrow III was advancing at terrifying speed, it felt as thought they'd never reach the finish.

He felt the relief wash over him as Molly powered down again, cutting not just the boosters but the hyperdrive in general. That relief lasted until the shooting started. The turns were placed fortuitously enough that they could dodge without much extra work, but that wouldn't last.

It didn't. Soon, the Arrow III was in a tunnel, stuck zigzagging to avoid fire. They managed well enough, and once they'd left the tunnel Jordan wasted no time getting trigger-happy. Neither of them could prevent the hit. The gunner was jarred by the impact, black smoke billowing from the hull. He was forced to pull out the fire extinguisher or get roasted alive in the gun turret. This wasn't how he'd pictured this race going, that was for sure. _'Still, could be worse.'_

Taking advantage of the damage he had wrought, Toros stole back the lead, and increased it. Molly glared, yelling "Here goes nothing!" even as she typed in the necessary commands.

Her coach's heart leapt into his throat, and he was sure her father's had too judging by the choking sound he'd just made. Or had that been Rick?

She activated both hyperdrive and boosters and raced like crazy, ignoring Stan's insistence that she had to _slow down now or she would crash._

"_I'm not stopping!_" Molly forced out through gritted teeth. Her eyes narrowed and her voice lowered. "I know Maya wouldn't have."

And stop she didn't. Even Rick, whom she usually listened to _(and almost did this time too)_ couldn't get through to her. If she lost here, she'd never get to Oban, never get the Ultimate Prize… never get her mother back. Never rebuild her family. She couldn't stop. He didn't understand.

"_No, Molly!_"

Toros pulled back. She took the lead. Then she deactivated the boosters as she passed through the last gate, slamming down on the brakes and banking hard.

Rick looked away.

The gong sounded, he looked… and groaned in relief as the dust cleared from around a perfectly-landed, unscathed ship. He could feel his hands starting to shake. _'That girl is gonna kill me.'_

Don Wei felt his heart start up again as the mechanics cheered. Even through that, he heard Rick's next comment.

"Not even I could have pulled that stunt."

"I beg to differ."

Had the older man turned to look, he would have seen his former star pilot looking the most surprised and touched that Don had seen him in years.


	2. Welcome to Oban

**Have you ever noticed in episode 14, _Welcome to Oban_, when they're crossing that bridge to the main module, there's a large person-sized gap between Jordan and Don? I can't help but think there should have been a Rick there. Also, Rick found Don in a desert; the Sonoran desert between Arizona and New Mexico, judging by the cacti. There would be dangerous animals there, right? (You'll see)**

**Warning: language**

**Disclaimer: Oban Star Racers and all related characters belong to Savin Yeatman-Eiffel.**

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><p>They were through. They had beaten Toros, Aikka had beaten Spirit… they were through. They were going to Oban.<p>

Hidden eyes found the girl, dreamy-eyed and blushing. He smiled, too.

"Rick," he glanced to the side, "I haven't felt this good in years!" His smile didn't fall— he was kind of less angry at Don right now. And Don really did look better than ever. Happy and determined. Hopeful. "Since you won your first Earth Grand Prix; you remember?"

He was talking like they were old friends. Rick couldn't keep the sadness from his voice, his mind filled with the memories. "Yeah."

Don didn't notice. He wasn't surprised. "You should be proud of yourself, Rick, you've certainly changed that girl. _I_ couldn't have done it." A pat on the shoulder, and Don left.

He wasn't proud of himself, couldn't be. He was proud of _her_. It was all her. Pulling himself from his musings, he saw the stands had cleared. He was alone. He turned to the arena and placed his hands on his hips. Rocking back on his heels, he turned his face to the sky and let out a small breath.

He remembered. Back on Earth, racing, what it felt like, knowing the man that got him there was watching, was even _proud._ He hated to admit it, but couldn't deny it; Don had been the closest thing to a father-figure he'd ever had. He bowed his head. Oh yes, he remembered that Grand Prix. Thrill, joy, cheering, flashing lights, Don's beaming face… oh, he remembered.

He smiled softly, chuckled, and heaved another sigh. Let it go, and walked away.

It would never stop hurting, but it would get better. He would learn to live with it. He was okay.

"_You seek help for a girl…"_

"_The Timeless One!"_

"_I feel much darkness…"_

Rick Thunderbolt wasn't done just yet. He still had a job to do. He just wasn't as confident he would succeed this time around.

* * *

><p>Molly was all packed. She was exhausted, now, having come down off the adrenaline rush and the joy of winning. She still couldn't quite believe it; they were through to Oban!<p>

She wasn't ready to turn in just yet, despite her heavy eyes and aching limbs. Raising a fist, she tentatively knocked on the door. After a moment of silence, she called, "Hey, Rick, can I come in?"

After another pause, she heard, "Yeah, come on in Little Mouse." His voice was suspiciously thick, like something was clogging his throat.

Frowning worriedly, she did so, taking in the scene before her. Rick was sitting on the edge of his bed, shirtless and slouched over, elbows on his knees, hands hanging loosely. He smiled a little strangely, and she forced a smile of her own.

After a slightly awkward pause, Molly cleared her throat. "Um… Rick, I-I just wanted to… to say thank you." She looked up and stared dead into his shades, hoping she was meeting his eyes behind them. "For everything. I could never have gotten through this without you." She smiled again, more genuinely this time. "You've taught me so much, and not just about racing. You believed in me when no one else did, when I didn't believe in myself. You helped me get past everything that was holding me back…" She blushed a little as he raised an eyebrow, no doubt remembering how she had refused to actually tell him what was holding her back.

Still, that was one of the things that was so great about Rick; he took what he had, even if it was next to nothing, and somehow made it work. "And, um… just so you know, your support and, uh, stuff… it means a lot to me. So… yeah. Thank you."

She wanted to smack her head against a wall. She had intended to say something all deep and meaningful, then admit that Rick was like the brother she'd never had, and here she was tripping over herself. She stared at her feet, shuffling them awkwardly as he stayed silent. She risked a glance up, and saw that his shoulders had slumped, his head hanging a little. Reddish-brown eyes widened. "Rick? Are you okay?"

He nodded stiffly and smiled that strange smile again. Molly couldn't help but feel he looked a little… lost. Overwhelmed. "I'm fine."

She wanted to speak, but didn't know what to say. Eventually, he beat her to it. "I'm proud of you."

Molly's heart lifted, and she felt herself blush again, but she was smiling this time. He continued. "I could see your potential right from the start; I knew you'd make one hell of a pilot. I just… thought the circumstances would be different." He was looking down now, at the floor. Some of his hair came loose from behind his ear and fell over his shoulder to cover his face. "You've grown so much in such a short time… Eva. I don't think there's much more I can do for you."

The girl shook her head, feeling unwanted tears prick her eyes at the use of her real name. "That-that's not true! I-I'll bet there's loads you can still teach me! I— "

"But I'll do my best." He looked up, that smile in place, talking like she hadn't said a thing. "Even if it's not good enough."

Eva felt her heart break. He was so much more than just a pilot, couldn't he see that? Couldn't he tell that she cared for him as a person, not just a valuable asset? _'Unlike Don I-Am-A-Heartless-Bastard Wei.'_ She took a breath, and filled her face and voice with conviction. "You will _always_ be good enough— better, even! You're a champion, Rick, and nothing can take that from you. No matter what."

Rick ducked his head again, fathomless black hair shrouding his face once more. _'Geez, aren't the perma-shades cover enough?' _His hand reached up and tucked the errant hair back behind his ear. The gesture was small and unexpectedly humble, but when he turned back to her and smiled again, it seemed that whatever shadow had come over him was gone.

He sat up a little straighter, planting one hand on his knee. "You all set for the trip to Oban, Little Mouse?"

Molly beamed, fitting herself to his lift in mood. "Yep! All packed and ready to go!" She barely suppressed a squeal of excitement. "I can't believe it! What do you think Oban will be like? I bet it'll be amazing! I can hardly even imagine…!"

The man laughed out loud, lifting himself from his bed and sauntering over. "Calm down, you're gonna shake up the whole hangar! Last thing we need is Don busting in here and ranting about how we'll find out when we get there." He ruffled her hair. "You should get some rest before we go; we've only got about an hour."

She grinned and gave Rick a thumbs-up. "You too! We'll both need as much sleep as we can get to deal with _Don Wei_ for the next who-knows-how-long!"

He laughed again. "Will do. Now go on, scram!" He cried playfully, sending a kick that was purposefully aimed a little off in her direction as she ran out of the door, laughing. She paused just past the doorway as they bid each other goodnight, and then she trotted back to her own room where she slept the next hour away, contentedly oblivious to Rick's reluctance to do the same and the dark creature that plagued his every moment of dreaming.

* * *

><p>The soft sound of footsteps on flagstones echoed in the air. Groaning softly, reddish-brown eyes prised themselves open, blearily trying to take in the surroundings as they adjusted. Spotting another unconscious figure slumped against some crates in front of the tarp-covered Whizzing Arrow III, Molly pushed herself up onto her knees and then clambered to her feet.<p>

"Jordan, wake up!" She said, jogging up to him and taking his shoulder before shaking him. "We've arrived!"

Letting go, she made a surprised sound as his prone form collapsed sideways onto the floor. She started to panic, wondering if something had happened during transit, frightened thoughts running through her head. "Jordan?"

He promptly started snoring.

She sagged in relief, a hopeless smile on her face as she stared down at her friend. "You could sleep through _anything_."

Looking up, she realised she didn't actually recognise… wherever it was that they were. "How did we get down here?" She wandered into the lit-up area where the Arrow III was, seeing a kind of circular skylight above it. Using her eyes to explore further, she spotted Rick in a similar position to the one Jordan had been in; slumped sideways against a crate, one tattooed arm on top of it, his head resting on that shoulder. His leg next to the crate was folded underneath the other, his free arm in his lap and his entire body relaxed, sleeping peacefully. Shades on. Molly smiled at the sight, unaware that it was the first time in several days that Rick _had_ slept peacefully, whatever power that knocked them out fending off the terrors that sought to grip him once more, safe in dreamless slumber.

Seeing some stairs and unable to ignore her curiosity— not that she was trying— she ventured upwards. Coming out into an open area that had a very temple-esque feel to it, red trees growing out of cracks in the stone, she felt herself fill with wonder. Up another flight of steps, and onto a ledge, she looked out at the beauty around her. "Oban?" She ran out further onto the ledge, underneath a circular archway; a door or window or something, right to the edge.

The sky was a gorgeous shade of muted blue, stars twinkling through subtle mist-like clouds, innumerable planets seemingly in orbit. "_Wow_," she gasped, "look at all these planets!"

Overcome with awe and joy, she threw her arms into the air and cried in jubilation, "Hello, Oban! Prepare yourself to meet Molly!"

An all-too-familiar voice interrupted her delight. Turning in the direction of the stern voice, she spotted Don Wei peering out into the expanse with binoculars. "I'd be careful if I were you, young lady; it's a pretty big drop from here."

Warily but curiously peering over the edge, she looked down and— _oh my God!_

Crying out, she stumbled back several paces. Tripping a little, she nearly fell backwards embarrassingly onto her butt, but was caught by familiar strong hands. "Careful there, Little Mouse."

Looking up into Rick's upside down face, the young pilot smiled in relief. "Thanks Rick. How come you're always there right when I need you?"

He raised an amused eyebrow. "My 'Molly Sense' was tingling." He quipped, making her laugh. Setting her back firmly on her feet, but keeping his hands on her shoulders just in case, he turned his attention to the incredible view. "It's so beautiful." He commented softly.

And to think, he had wanted to go home. Sure, his mother and aunt weren't here, neither were his friends; there was nothing familiar or homely, no way to escape the world of racing that he was no longer a part of— but he could go home later and they would be waiting. And he would return with impossible stories of amazing places. Still he surveyed in wonder, content and even pleased with his decision. Don had been right, after all. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and he was glad he wasn't missing it, all things considered.

Carefully, Rick stepped around Molly and leaned out, even as she yelped and grabbed his t-shirt, looking down at the ground. A low whistle cut through the air. "That is a long way down."

Molly tried to tug him back. "Rick! We're miles from the ground! What kind of place is this?" He chuckled and stepped back to his previous position, not wanting to give the poor girl a heart attack.

Finally, Don lowered his binoculars and spoke, his voice filled with utter awe. "Until now, everything we've learned about Oban is… _far_ beyond our comprehension. Scientists have said for decades that the centre of our galaxy was a black hole— does this _look_ like a black hole to you!" He'd raised his arms, trying to encompass everything in one gesture, a smile of wonderment on his face. "Oban is _amazing._"

"That she is." Rick responded. "I almost hate to admit it Don, but you sure got one thing straight; this is one hell of an experience."

The older man smiled wryly, lowering his arms. "And you are no doubt finding it very hard to truly articulate yourself without swearing colourfully and profusely at this moment in time, am I right?"

"Fuck yeah." He shot back, surprising Molly. "I mean _shit_, Don! This is fucking amazing!" His grin seemed ready to split his face in two.

Molly giggled. "I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting that from _you_, Rick!" She teased. "You always struck me as a 'good role model' type, y'know?"

Don chuckled. "You should hear his mother!"

"My mother _nothing_, Auntie G's got a mouth on her like you wouldn't believe. If Mom weren't so liberal with the cussing herself, I wouldn't have even known I _had_ an aunt 'til I was twelve or something."

Laughing, Molly couldn't help but ask this one question. She'd wanted to know more about Rick for a while, especially his father; he'd supported her in all the right ways in regards to hers before figuring out who she was. Had the situation been what she'd made it out to be, everything he'd said concerning her father would have been exactly what she needed. "What about your dad? Is he in on the swearing too, or was he the one futilely trying to protect your innocence?"

Don's smile fell, but Rick's didn't. "Mom kicked him out when I was four after he threw a glass bottle at me."

The young pilot felt like she'd been punched in the gut and then dunked in ice water. "I'm sorry, I— "

"Don't be, we were glad to see the drunk bastard go." He smirked. "Guy was so pissed he hit the wrong fucking wall anyhow."

Seeing Molly's face, he sighed. "Geez, Little Mouse, it was twenty one years ago. I'm over it. Next morning Mom made cinnamon pancakes and Auntie G brought round her old _Friends_ box set. One of the best days of my life. I was over it by lunchtime. It's a bigger deal to everyone else than it is to me, okay?"

Looking into his shades, she tried to smile. "Okay."

He smiled, ruffled her hair and looked up at Don, then back to her. "Why don't we look around some more? I mean, this is just the tip of the iceberg and I want to see as much as possible before it's all over."

"A wonderful idea!" Don butted in before Molly could speak, sounding like he was trying to be cheerful. "I'll wake Jordan, Stan and Koji— "

"Good luck with that." Molly teased. "Jordan sleeps like a log. A dead one!"

* * *

><p>Single file, the group crossed the thin stone bridge to the main module; Molly, Jordan, Rick, Don, Koji and Stan bringing up the rear.<p>

Jordan frowned, looking around in confusion. "Where is everyone?"

Molly looked around too, but seemed much less perturbed. "Well, you snooze, you lose."

Behind them, Koji stopped to stare at something down on the ground. Stan followed suit and Don, noticing them stop, followed their gaze and was also caught in whatever visual snare was sitting down there.

Rick, too, stopped in confusion, turning back to peer curiously at the three seemingly mesmerised individuals. He was going to jump on the bandwagon and see what was so interesting when he heard Jordan's voice echo into the main module. His gut instinct told him to ignore those three and whatever had them so intrigued and follow the two trouble magnets about to waltz into unknown territory, and he had learned to trust his instincts.

Turning back to the two youngest, he jogged a little to catch up and peered into the darkness alongside them. He itched to take off his shades and see properly, but that was out of the question. What he could make out seemed to be pillars surrounding them, with some kind of patterning or maybe glyphs at the bases, all old and cracked.

"I got a bad feeling about this place." Jordan complained, looking decidedly worried. Molly didn't share such sentiments, clearly.

A determined expression on her face, she glared into the darkness. "Come on Jordan, at least pre_tend_ to be tough." She started walking, even as Jordan opened his mouth to protest. He was cut off by a deep chuckle from immediately behind him.

Both Molly and Jordan started in shock and turned, sagging in relief when they saw it was just Rick. "Geez," the boy said, "how does a big guy like you move so quietly?" Rick just smiled. That was a piece of information he wasn't quite willing to divulge.

Molly seemed to have gotten the picture, if her expression was anything to go by. "Come on, let's keep going. Unless you're scared of the dark, _Jordan._" She teased. Rick sighed; he'd have to have a chat with her about _pitying him._

"_Hey!_" Jordan finally got around to being indignant. "Cut it out!" He followed after her, clearly intent on giving her a piece of his mind. The second he vacated the doorway, something rumbled and shifted.

The pair turned once more to see, with horror, that a door was lowering itself— right on top of Rick, who had just stepped directly underneath it as it moved. His first instinct was to leap forwards, as he was already moving in that direction, but something else entirely that he couldn't quite pinpoint told him to move _back_, and the two commands clashed with equal force, stopping him dead underneath the moving stone.

Don's faint voice behind him called his name, and both the kids in front of him did the same, and his instinct won out. In a snap decision, he dove forwards into a roll, the stone just grazing his head, and he heard it slam to the floor before he was even halfway to having his feet back under him. _'That could have been me…'_

Even as he was trying to put together some kind of explanation as to why he hadn't gotten the hell out from under there from the start, Molly was crouched next to him, a hand on his shoulder asking if he was alright, and Jordan stood over him, trying to check his head without making unwanted physical contact.

They didn't hear Don Wei shouting and banging on the other side of the door.

"It just won't budge!"

"With the tools we brought I'm sure we could open it…"

"Forget it."

Both mechanics' eyes snapped to Don in shock. The man simply directed his gaze upwards, focusing on the Avatar's symbol engraved in the stone. "We are not dealing with natural forces here." He focused back on the two men, authority seeping back into his voice. "We're going back to the module." He turned, intending to do just that.

Koji turned to Stan who glanced back and spoke. "But sir—!"

"Molly and Jordan are the Avatar's guests." He interrupted forcefully. "_They've_ not been locked in; _we've_ simply been locked out."

Another look was shared. Koji nervously pushed his glasses back up onto his face. "And… and what about Rick?"

Don paused once more. He was still turned away, so they couldn't see him, and he allowed himself a small, fond smile. "Rick doesn't let anyone tell him where he can and cannot go; even the otherworldly and omnipotent."

Stan smirked. "So he's a gatecrasher then?"

Koji shrugged. "The party doesn't start 'til Rick walks in!"

* * *

><p>"Uhh… maybe we should have waited by the door."<p>

"What, for the mighty Don to come and save us?" The larger man drawled, amused. "I don't think so."

Molly rolled her eyes. "We can always go back. And now that we're inside, we need to know what we're up against."

They could see what appeared to be natural light and headed up the stairs before them to the opening. What they came out into was utterly gorgeous. Grass, trees and other foliage of varying shades of red, little pink flowers on some of them, seemingly ancient stone structures and pathways, waterfalls running from one of those structures and what seemed to be a flock of a kind of greenish bird taking off. All within a single domed structure.

Molly smiled, taking it all in. "I'm really starting to like this place." Her face lit up further as she spotted a small fountain and ran over to it, pausing to sniff some flowers. "I could stay here forever." She declared dreamily.

Jordan didn't seem to share this opinion, and Rick chuckled. "You'd get homesick eventually." He assured. "It's amazing, that's for sure, and I wouldn't want to leave _too _soon… but I wouldn't want to stay for too long, either. Still," he continued, "since we're here, we may as well make the most of it, right?" he planted a hand on Jordan's shoulder.

The gunner turned away, and instantly froze, laying eyes on a huge, bug-like creature over in the red grass. Rick felt him go rigid and followed his gaze. He quickly tightened his grip on the boy. "Stay calm." He told him softly. "Just walk past it. No need to panic; it's not doing anything to us."

Gently manoeuvring Jordan, he also reached over and laid a hand on Molly's back. When she turned slightly from where she had been drinking from the fountain, he quickly told her not to look and just keep walking. Confused and worried, she nonetheless did as she was told. He glanced back at the creature, which was now facing them. "Beautiful…" He murmured. Jordan jerked, but dared not make a sound. Rick just smiled and briefly squeezed the boy's shoulder. Not his fault; he hadn't grown up next to an American desert containing lovely things like rattlesnakes— he didn't know how to appreciate the dangerous creatures in this world, or any other.

The kept going like that for several minutes before Rick, being the tallest by far, spotted a clearing filled with unfamiliar creatures. He gently let go of the two younger ones, and Jordan immediately hissed, "_Beautiful? _You thought that monster was _beautiful!_"

Molly's worry increased. "Monster? What monster!"

"There was no monster— "

"_It had tentacles!_"

"SHUT IT!"

He did. "Look, that was a creature, certainly; a dangerous one, probably— "

"_PROBABLY!_"

"BUT it wasn't doing anything to us, okay? We're fine. Now, we're coming up to a clearing filled with what looks like the other finalists, going by that Crog. Look lively." The ex-pilot smirked as their attention was thoroughly diverted.

The three of them were stared at as they stepped into the clearing. It looked like they were the last ones there. Molly and Jordan shuffled awkwardly, clearly expecting Rick to take the lead. He sighed.

"Hi. We're the Earth Team, nice to meet'cha." Something huge shifted behind them, an unearthly sound rending the air. On instinct, Rick grabbed the kids by the scruffs of their necks and lifted them clear off the ground, bolting sideways out of the creature's way as it ambled docilely past.

"See?" Rick told them as he set them back down. "Nothing to worry about." The frazzled pair just glared at him.

Taking pity on the man, the figure beneath a nearby tree spoke up. "I'm told he won't bite." He tried not to smile as Molly noticed him.

"Huh? Prince Aikka?" She approached him and he carefully kept his posture casual, his face unreadable. Wouldn't do to 'give the game away', would it? "What are y— ?"

"As long as you don't provoke him," damn, he was smiling, "he's one of the nine finalists."

Molly relaxed, a smile forming on her face too, even as Jordan stared in disbelief at the bug-like racer. The larger man, whom Aikka was unfamiliar with, seemed mildly surprised, but that was it. Until he noticed Jordan's staring, at which point irritation flashed across his features and he lightly swatted the gunner upside the head. The prince's acute sense of hearing picked up mutterings about rudeness, and he smiled a little more freely.


	3. Devil You Know

**Chapter 3! Special thanks to everyone who reviewed; it's much appreciated and spurs me on! I must admit, these are some of the longest (and most consistent) multi-chapters I've ever come out with, though this one's slightly shorter. Oh, and there's a small formatting bug— in the second chapter, there are some examples of what would appear to be questions, but with exclamation marks. Initially, there were exclamation marks immediately followed by question marks. FFnet removed the question marks. I will continue attempting to make it work (I'm stubborn) but will swap so that question marks come first; I can do without the extra emphasis, so long as the site doesn't FFnet up my basic grammar.**

* * *

><p>"Prince Aikka! I'm so glad to see you again!" Molly cried jubilantly as she stopped before the Prince. He only smiled. His initial plan had been to trick her into thinking he was still angry and then pleasantly surprise her, but her endearing happiness at seeing him made it difficult. Not to mention, though he'd never admit it, there was something of a <em>hulking behemoth<em> behind her whom clearly valued respect of other living beings, and he dare not upset her in this man's presence.

"On my planet," he began, not unkindly, "when you make a promise, you keep it." Her breath caught and her eyes lowered in shame; the large man behind her, though his eyes were hidden, raised an eyebrow, clearly projecting _I-don't-know-what-you-think-you're-doing-but-I-don't-like-it_ vibes. Perhaps this man was the young pair's appointed guardian? He certainly seemed warrior-like, but also seemed to take Molly's unhappiness personally. He almost cursed aloud when the next thought struck him— what if he was her elder brother? On Nourasia, the only thing worse than a protective brother was a protective _mother_. There were many social parallels between their cultures; despite himself, Aikka began to worry, and hastily finished his intended statement. "But, we're also taught how to forgive."

He stepped away from the shelter of the tree, straightening up. "I am not mad at you, Molly." He gave a short bow. "Welcome to Oban." Glimpsing the man again, he seemed to approve of this amendment. Relief flooded the Prince as Molly visibly brightened.

The sound of grass being crushed under heavy footfalls drew his attention away as Jordan strode forward, forcing Molly aside with his proximity. The look on his face was… not exactly _forced_, but not entirely genuine either. A civil smile. His voice, similarly, had a not-quite-forced tone of friendliness and reconciliation to it. "Yeah, thanks for beating Spirit back on Alwas. It was a big help— " he held out a hand, in what the Prince's studies and interactions with Molly told him was a handshake, "put her there, pal!" The Nourasion's royal studies in diplomacy were all that kept him from sneering in distaste. The young male was clearly attempting to impress Molly by taking the moral high ground, and Aikka was eager to disillusion him that he _had_ no moral high ground.

Something shifted behind both humans, and he glanced past to that large man again, to find both eyebrows raised in expectation. He had folded his muscular arms, blatantly showing off huge, bright block-red tattoos that no doubt continued up his arms to the shoulders, and quite possibly further decorating his torso; blue eyes were also drawn to his hair, which he now realised was even longer at the back. On his home planet, tattoos were earned, and hair length was an optional sign of demonstrating one's power, wealth or position. Aikka found himself once again intimidated by this man, despite knowing logically that such things did not mean the same thing on Earth. Another factor which added to this intimidation was that, somehow, this man _knew_ how the Prince wished to react to Jordan's display.

Still, it was enough for his conscience to kick in. _'Continuing antagonism with this boy will be detrimental to Molly, emotionally if nothing else… and likely to both of our racing. I cannot allow a petty dispute between the two of us to affect the overall situation on any scale; we have nothing to lose from being civil.' _Not to mention that it would take Jordan's attempt to impress by swallowing his pride and turn it to Aikka's favour. Molly knew he was reluctant to behave in any way other than hostilely towards any who knowingly sought to harm his mount.

He almost felt guilty about this little practice of politics, but he wasn't pretending to be perfect. Besides, letting one incident colour his actions was silly and childish, and things could well go a lot smoother and perhaps even more pleasantly if he and Jordan buried the hatchet.

"I am reluctant to forgive you for attacking G'dar." He began, as neither of them were ready to be 'best buddies' just yet. Also, as humans oft named animals that they formed bonds with, naming his mount may help the boy fully realise the impact of his intentions. Maybe. "But continuing our petty dispute would be both foolish and juvenile, so I am willing to end hostilities between us." Jordan's eyes widened a little in surprise, but he nodded slightly. Aikka tentatively reached out and clasped the offered hand, expecting the strong grip and matching it, only briefly startled when Jordan gave a single, hearty shake.

"Well then, _pal_, guess we'll see you on the race track?" His tone was just a tad more genuine now, as their hands separated, and Aikka blinked once before nodding. Glancing back to Molly, he smiled at her joyful surprise.

"Aww." An unfamiliar voice joined the conversation. "It's always nice to see racers getting along, don't you think so Molly?" The teasing was obvious, and Molly giggled delightfully.

"Yup!" She beamed. "Oh, I almost forgot— Aikka, this is Rick Thunderbolt. He was the Earth Team's original pilot before…" She trailed off, eyes flicking nervously to the man she was introducing.

Rick, for his part, only smiled. "Nice to meet you, Prince. Molly's told me some about you."

Now it was Aikka's turn to be pleasantly surprised. "Is that so? I hope it was nothing too unfavourable." He now hoped very much to get on Rick's good side; Molly had, likewise, mentioned Rick, and he wondered how he hadn't made the connection sooner. The ex-pilot had mentored and guided Molly through the Alwas races, and she greatly valued his opinion.

Rick chuckled deeply. "Not anything particularly incriminating, no." Aikka had a suspicion that there _had_ been some… _incriminating_ information, but that it had been cleared up just now. Another wave of relief.

"Anyway, down to business; do you recognise anyone else here, Prince?" The man gestures slightly to the side, at the other occupants of the clearing. "Any helpful info you can give would be greatly appreciated."

Aikka turned his mind to this more serious matter, eyes seeking out those he did indeed recognise. "I've only heard of two. Though I know that they all are the best of the best; the pre-selections were nothing in comparison to what these races will be." He nodded towards the tall, floating, glowing blue alien, its three black eyes averted from their little group. "That's Sul, a powerful magician known across the entire galaxy. Some say his powers match those of the Avatar… but I have my doubts." His tone made his scepticism clear; he knew some about the mystic and magical arts, after all. Rick nodded in seeming acknowledgement.

The Prince then turned towards the great, red-clad Crog on the other side of the clearing to Sul. "And that's the notorious General Kross of the Crog Imperium."

"What happened to Toros?" Jordan questioned warily.

The Nourasion grimaced faintly. "It seems his superiors weren't very pleased with his defeat against the Earth Team." All three humans seemed to understand what he meant, and all showed varying signs of surprise and mild horror.

"But he came in first in the pre-selections," Molly exclaimed, "way ahead of _everyone!_"

"I don't think the Crog military work in an 'oh well, try again next time' kind of way." Rick stated darkly, his brow furrowed.

"Indeed. To the Crogs, failure is _not_ an option." At that moment, Kross seemed to notice them and, to Aikka's horror, approached.

He tried not to betray this sentiment, though both Molly and Jordan moved back a few steps, looking up at the General's scarred face. His menacing voice rumbled through the air.

"I knew Toros had… grown soft. But to lose against you pitiful humans…?" He was clearly taunting them, baiting for a reaction as Toros had with Rush. Unfortunately, Jordan seemed about to take that bait— until Rick sidestepped in front of the Crog, standing between him and the younger ones.

"Toros _might_ have 'grown soft', as you put it, but someone like that wouldn't have gone very nearly undefeated. Your huge ego might just have to accept that we're not quite as pitiful as you and the rest of the galaxy seem to believe."

Rick tactfully _didn't_ mention that Toros only lost because he'd tried the same trick twice; it would be beyond braindead to clue in the opposition on how to beat them. He seriously hoped this wouldn't come down to a fight, either— a few weeks ago, he might have had a chance (if crotch shots had the same effect on Crogs as they did humans; he was a shamelessly dirty fighter and proud of it), but with his condition… _'Well, my legs still work for a while even when my arms fritz. That's the great thing about ass kicking; it's all about _kicking_ ass. I might still be able to get a good shot in, even if I don't beat him. Should take him down a peg or two.' _Sounded like a plan. Well, more of an Indie Ploy, (which is a plan that isn't really a plan, like 'run' or 'don't die') but hey, they usually worked.

Kross' half-blind gaze narrowed critically, analysing him. "You are the original Earth Team pilot. Your purpose is no longer, your point for coming to Oban null. Why are you here?"

A smirk. He cocked his head slightly, oozing confidence even with Kross invading his personal space. "I wanted to see what Oban is like. Not committing any crime, am I?"

No purpose. A pointless excursion to somewhere far-off and dangerous, for _sightseeing_. Or, perhaps some secret agenda that he refused to reveal, as an agent should. The General thought this human was perplexing. Nonetheless, his pointless prattle was challenging in its carefully casual nature, clearly implying that he did not fear Kross. That rankled, but was justified; one of his subordinates had contacted him with the failure of preventing the Earth Team from reaching the checkpoint, displaying utter incredulity over the fact that he had gotten the pilot— this human before him, the physical description was unmistakable— in a full-arm chokehold… and the cumbersome, wheeled vehicle he had been in control of had not even veered off track. Humans were unbelievable fragile compared to other species in the galaxy. His neck should have been ground into fine sand, yet here he was, standing tall before him.

He was much, much larger and bulkier than any human Kross had ever laid eye on. He'd have to challenge him sometime; he might be a half-decent opponent. No, he could no longer pilot, but piloting and hand-to-hand combat were very different things. Despite their best efforts, not every Crog had a full capacity for both.

Aikka, Jordan ad Molly were staring wide-eyed, hardly daring to breathe. They all started when Satis' voice rang across the clearing.

"_In the name of my Master, the Avatar, I welcome all the finalists of the Great Race on Oban!_"

At this cry, Kross turned his head to see the small, annoying creature that served the Avatar standing on one of the ruins in the water. He didn't understand why the Avatar kept it around; perhaps to test just how far the competitors could go until they snapped. He turned back to the crippled pilot. "We shall meet again." With that, he walked away, turning his mind to the Race. There would be time to dwell on the human later.

Molly exhaled in utter relief, and Jordan was gaping at Rick with something akin to hero worship.

All nine finalists approached the edge where the paving met water, focused on Satis. A small cylindrical robot with an open-lid-type face and three legs spoke first. "Satis, what in the world are _you_ doing here? We left you on Sangrar, two hundred and sixty five point four lightyears away!"

"Huh? Sangrar?"

"It's one of the three planets where the pre-selections were held: Alwas, Sangrar and Darwar." The Prince informed his confused human friend.

"I've been promoted to spokesperson!" Satis declared, sounding very pleased with himself.

"But," Jordan started, "how could he be on Sangrar, when he was with us on Alwas?"

Satis promptly clapped twice in an official manner, crying "Your attention please, winning pilots!" and getting exactly that. "The first match of the grand finals will begin in just a few minutes!"

"Just a few minutes?" Rick murmured. "Don, I hope you're getting everything good and ready out there…"

* * *

><p>Well, wasn't this fun? After an explanation of the new rules, and a veiled lecture aimed at Kross, the module had started rising up into the sky. What really got Rick, though, was that he could <em>feel<em> the power running through the stone, and it was incredible. Far greater than any shaman he had ever had contact with.

He could almost hear his mother's chiding voice. _"The spiritual powers of Earth are beyond our comprehension; whatever lies at the centre of the galaxy could well be beyond imagination."_

"_Hunter, your Grandpa was a shaman. You're gonna be able to feel and hear and see things they can't. If they're gonna be assholes about it, then they can piss off and find themselves a new awesome friend. Which they won't, sweetie, 'cause there's no one more awesome than you!"_

God, he loved his mother.

Jordan had an arm hovering close to Molly's back to safeguard against her losing her balance, but he was fortunately too shocked at the current happenings to notice that Aikka had a firm supporting grip on her arm for the same purpose.

With those two in such close proximity, with Molly between them, he could almost smell the testosterone. Rick could only hope this wasn't shaping up to be some kind of Sci-Fi/fantasy teen-soap opera complete with love triangle. He couldn't handle that kind of shit right now.

"B-but my ship! My crew!"

"Not to worry, my friend, your housing modules are coming with us." Oh, Don must be loving this. The ex-pilot almost snickered.

"Now hurry! Go and get ready! We'll be there soon!"

Several of the finalists, Sul and Kross included, moved to do just that, but two seemingly female racers didn't. "And how are we supposed to reach our charming modules? The Avatar expects us to fly there, he's gonna have to give my partner some wings." She shared a laugh with said partner, though the question did stand.

Satis seemed just as amused. "No, that won't be necessary! Simply use the magical portals."

"Ah, the magical portals, of course!" The tiny creature with the huge, lolling tongue sounded much calmer than before, like all his problems had been solved. Rick counted the seconds to realisation. "U-uh, where exactly are these magical portals?" About four seconds.

"HE'S GONE!" The little, once again hysterical alien shrieked, running off. "MY SHIP! MY _SHI-IP!_"

True to form, Satis had disappeared. Aikka and the three humans were the only ones left standing there, gaping in shock at the empty space.

"I guess we'll just have to find them ourselves." Molly turned to Aikka, smiling. "Good luck Prince!"

The Prince bowed slightly in return. "And to you." He replied sincerely.

Jordan bristled slightly, but reminded himself he was trying _not_ to be as much of a prick to Princey as he deserved, because it would upset Molly. Besides, she might be wishing _him_ good luck, but Jordan was the one who would win the race with her.

Rick raised a hand in farewell. "See ya, Prince." Aikka bowed deeply and bid them a farewell, before they parted ways to search for these portals.

They quickly found the main doorway closed, and it was Jordan who pointed out a small hut-like structure nearby. His face lit up at spying what he believed to be the portal on the other side, but Rick's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

Walking past, he turned to the left, eyeing up a precisely circular area of a strange material on the wall that appeared to be some kind of cross between metal and glass. He reached out to touch the surface of it, and smiled gently as the younger two gasped. His hand passed straight through as it now glowed. It felt like water, and acted a little like it, but it didn't come off on what passed through it.

"I was imagining something a little more… y'know, magical." Jordan stated.

Rick raised an eyebrow. "These things aren't always what the stories make 'em out to be. More often than not, it's much more subtle than you'd think, but no less impressive. Come on." And with that, he stepped through, leaving the grinning pilot and gunner to follow. It was a wonderful sensation, in his opinion. Cool and soothing.

"Nice of you to drop in."

Ignoring Don's sarcastic greeting, Rick got straight to it. "The race is just about to begin. You'd better have seen this coming, Don."

Molly and Jordan now present (the flash of light he hadn't noticed during his own passing caught his fancy now; he did like the little light shows), Don addressed them. "The Whizzing Arrow III is ready. Stan and Koji are standing by."

* * *

><p>Aikka was heading towards his own portal, checking behind him warily for Kross. He would no doubt be questioning the Prince's loyalties after seeing him with the Earth Team. <em>'He shouldn't be so surprised. My loyalties are to Nourasia, <em>not_ to the Crogs.'_ Nevertheless, he liked to prevent unnecessary violence when he could. If that meant leaving out some information and telling a few half truths, then so be it.

Just as he was reached through the portal, a huge hand enclosed around his torso, finger and thumb encircling his neck. He hadn't noticed the General's approach. _'Damn it all!'_

"What were you doing with the humans?" Kross demanded. His grip was painfully tight, and Aikka continued to struggle and make noise, half hoping Satis would pop up and remind the Crog that attempted murder resulted in disqualification. Even though this wasn't really attempted murder. "'A person is judged by the company they keep'. I wouldn't want you to fall into the… 'wrong crowd'."

As Aikka was dropped roughly to the ground and sat there choking, trying to reacquaint his lungs with oxygen, he noted with some amusement that the Crog General had picked up some Earth English terms and slang. The irony. "I don't know what you're talking about!" He denied. Yes, this was more 'full-out lie' than half truth, but he'd just been choked. He wasn't in the most civil of moods. "I came here to win, and I shall!"

"You will not betray us again." The threat was lessened somewhat by his dramatic cape-flick as he left. It probably had the desired effect with other beings (i.e. scared the crap out of them) but Aikka was royalty and all too aware of purposeful theatrics and posturing. It just amused him that the General was trying so hard. "Do not forget the Crogs. Your… _true_ friends."

If he could breathe properly, Aikka would have collapsed back to the floor in an uncontrollable fit of laughter.


	4. Start It Up

**Sorry this is much much _much _(ad infinitum) later than intended, but better late than never, right? Blame the A-levels. (and Mum's cancer, Grandma's blood clot, Dad's job loss… this hasn't been high on my list of priorities recently) Thank you so much for all reviews, fav's, alerts and even just reading the damn thing. It means an awful lot to me. Also, another mistake in the last chapter (*headdesk*) involving the Crogs. I put 'full-arm chokehold'. It wasn't one, 'cause Crog arms are absolutely massive and Rick would actually be dead and they'd have nothing to identify the body with. I didn't mean to put that, but I did mean to infer that the grip around Rick's neck was full-_strength_ and should, by rights, have snapped it.**

**Now, on to the very first race following the pre-selections. Here we go!**

* * *

><p>It was time. Soon, very soon, the first race to be held on Oban would begin. Molly and Jordan were already snug and ready in their respective seats, the mechanics having just finished the final checks.<p>

"The Whizzing Arrow III is ready to roll!" Koji confirmed aloud, businesslike in posture and mindset. At least, until the floor beneath him began to glow as though someone was shining a searchlight up through it. He looked down, fear worming its way into his heart and tightening his gut. He was standing directly on one of three lines that segmented the floor into three triangles, a fourth line forming a circle beneath the ship itself.

The floor was going to open underneath them.

Stan's cry snapped him out of it and he followed his partner, both of them seeking to clear the immediate area before they were dropped along with the Arrow.

A _clink_ caught Koji's attention, and he became aware of a loss of weight in his overalls. Turning sharply, he spied the tool that had fallen to the floor, directly on one of the glowing lines. That was his lucky wrench!

The redhead knew exactly what Koji was thinking— he'd gotten him that wrench one birthday, after all— and called to him. "Koji, get out of there! Hurry!"

But the young man was torn; it was just a wrench, but it meant an awful lot to him. It had been the first present anyone had ever put any forethought into for him. With a lurch of his stomach, Koji felt the floor drop, and used what was still horizontal enough to run on, almost making it to safety.

Almost.

Reaching for Stan's outstretched hand, he screamed as he started to fall. Fortunately, his reflexes were better than people tended to expect, and he managed to catch the stone rim, his torso colliding painfully with the now-vertical floor and knocking the wind out of him. Unfortunately, he was _exactly_ as strong as people expected him to be, and wouldn't be able to hold on for very long. He managed to regain enough breath to choke out Stan's name and a plea for help.

That familiar, gloved hand grabbed his own just as he slipped, pulling him up. Another, not-so-familiar hand seized a fistful of the back of his shirt and overalls, hoisting him entirely up over the edge. Looking up as his organs put themselves back where they should be and his heart stopped freaking out, he was relieved to see not only Stan but Rick as well. Not that he didn't trust Stan with his life— he did, no doubt about that, more than anyone in existence— but Rick's superior strength made is less likely that Koji would have pulled his dear friend with him to their doom. Unlikely, but a frightening possibility.

Speaking of his dear friend, Stan looked only half-terrified now, the other half thoroughly exasperated. "For a wrench, Koji? _Seriously?_"

If Rick was shocked by this revelation, he did little more than raise an eyebrow.

The half-Japanese mechanic looked down, flushing in shame and embarrassment. "I-I know, that was really stupid but…"

Stan heaved a sigh. "I'll get you a new one, geez." There was an underlying understanding to his tone, and Koji smiled.

"Hate to cut this heart-warming moment short, but you both okay?" Rick interrupted. "'Cause I think Molly's gonna need a little help with that crazy drop."

* * *

><p>Molly did, indeed, need help. It would have been difficult enough to control the Arrow's descent with a seatbelt; without one, she was clinging to the handlebars of her grafted rocketseat for dear life, her legs actually above her head as she fell.<p>

Her partner was faring a little better, as he did have a seatbelt, but was having a great deal of trouble controlling the gun turret in this free-fall. It rocked and rolled and threatened to remove itself from the main body of the ship, and the G-force was giving him some serious grief. The male body was generally not as well equipped to deal with it, and Jordan in particular was not designed for it at all. He really didn't understand how a bulky guy like Rick could handle something like this so effortlessly.

Outside, the muted blues and fluffy whites of cloud and sky blurred past, even the orbiting planets seemed to glide upwards, the only constant being the varied and shifting ships rapidly losing altitude alongside them. Molly had finally managed to wrestle herself onto her seat, legs clamped tightly around it. "We're going too fast here!" She cried out, desperate for some kind of aid at this point, filling with terror and thoughts of dashing themselves upon the craggy ravines that could be glimpsed below.

Koji and Stan dove into their chairs, Don and Rick right behind them.

"Star racers aren't meant to fly! Not-not like this!" Koji's mind was whirring, possible solutions and theories flying through his mind in the blink of an eye, coupled with the myriad of information on the screen in front of him. "Push all lift reactors to the max!"

"Got it!" That's exactly what Molly did. The Arrow shuddered once before the reactors activated, and their descent slowed significantly, though the ship shuddered again, straining against the inexorable force of gravity, still moving dangerously swiftly towards the planet's surface.

Rick stood firm, as though he were falling through the sky with the pilot and gunner himself, steeling against the forces around and inevitable stop they would eventually reach. His brow was furrowed and voice urgent, any fear hidden, as he asked a question that hadn't crossed either mechanics' minds. "Can you spare any power for the stabilisers?"

"Oh!" Koji perked up. "Of course!— yes, go for it!"

"Re-routing a small percentage of power now."

"Right, here we go!" The stabilisers kicked in, and the shaking and shuddering of the hull lessened, the fall much more controlled now. Molly grinned. "Thanks, Rick! You're a genius!"

He chuckled, remembering the number of times she'd verbalised that same thought to Koji. "I bet you say that to all the boys." He teased in a sultry voice.

She laughed too, and Don angrily cut them off. "Not now! Focus, the both of you!"

Rick responded with a flick of his adorned wrist, causing his elder to grind his teeth.

There was a ravine directly below the Arrow III, a deep cut into the terrain that was criss-crossed with huge, thick tree roots all the way down like some huge, demented pinball-type game. With a few crashes and bangs, though far fewer than there could have been, Molly managed to settle the racer along the ravine's base.

Koji's relieved voice filtered through the communications system. "Hull okay at ninety four percent. Wouldn't risk trying the boosters out, though." Molly smiled a little, wiping the sweat from her brow.

A couple of small beeps signalled someone patching through visuals, and the soft _vwhorr_ of a holographic screen materialising caught her attention. Stan's grinning face appeared. "Excellent work Molly! We'll fix this little problem after the race." He shot her a thumbs up, winking like in some corny TV ad. "That's a promise!"

In the gun turret, Jordan was practically melting with relief, both physical and otherwise. Clutching his dogtags with both hands, he sighed and kissed his grandfather's twice in both habit and genuine gratitude. He was fully aware that that could have ended very, very badly.

They cruised along a much clearer path in the ravine for a while, Molly looking around for whatever they might be seeking. "Satis said stone doors; do you see anything on your scanners?"

It was a scowling Don Wei who replied, as though he were talking to a misbehaving young child. She didn't take offence; he always spoke that way. "We don't have enough data yet Molly. Keep following the others for now."

Sure enough, there was a racer up ahead that seemed a more suited to be a seafaring vessel than a star racer. They started to pull up alongside it, and the tiny figures on deck appeared to completely panic, running around like headless chickens or jumping up and down with their arms in the air and screaming for all they were worth. Jordan was utterly, utterly stunned. He'd never laid eyes on such a useless combat group in all his life. It would have been funny, if it weren't so pathetic. A small laugh slipped passed his lips almost absently as a result.

He didn't find it quite so amusing when intricately and archaically designed cannons popped out of the side of it and started firing laser-enhanced cannonballs. Jordan wasn't aware of his militaristic game face slipping on, focused only on the enemy's fire and ways to neutralise the threat. "Molly! Watch out!"

Reactions ever-swift, Molly still wasn't quite able to avoid one devastating blow that threw the whole ship off slightly, leaving them almost limping as she attempted to restabilise the racer. However, this meant they also couldn't avoid one of the roots that stretched across the ravine, increasing the distance between them further.

Jordan grinned fiercely, aiming the lasers at the enemies' cannons, untroubled by the undefended people out in the open. He would have been if they were taller— he was conditioned to be aggressive, but he was no killer— but their heads were a good distance below the cannons, probably for that very reason. Yes, the lasers ricocheted a little off the metallic hull, but they 'shattered' and lost power upon impact, leaving anything remaining with little more than a sting. Didn't stop the crewmen running around like idiots though. Good grief.

His grin was only reinforced as they duck-and-covered, their lack of return fire enabling the Arrow to pull ahead. He kept firing from in front, watching the vessel bob and weave drunkenly in an attempt to evade him. They turned around a corner that separated the two ships completely, but Jordan didn't let himself relax.

"Here's the door." Molly informed anyone listening, passing through aforementioned door; a simple, almost crumbling stone circle suspended midair on the course. A glow passed through it as they did the same, spreading outwards to form the Avatar's stylised 'wings' in a swift pulse that made it seem like they were being drawn in the air before disappearing again.

"Looks like we've got something." Koji replied. "The stone doors emit pulsar vibrations; if I can decode it we might be able to trace them."

"Sounds good." Rick offered. "Looks like things are gonna be a little easier from here on out."

"Don't count on it."

"Ever the pessimist, Don. I never won a race with _that _attitude."

"I have to be, to balance out your childish optimism."

"Hey!" Molly called out. "Not now, guys! Flirt later!"

Don sputtered incredulously in shocked indignity whilst Rick faked surprise, struggling to keep the smirk off his face. "You were making moves on me? That's disgusting, you could pass for my dad! You should be ashamed of yourself."

Jordan rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless. Sometimes they all seemed like one big dysfunctional family. Hell of a lot better than Boot Camp, at any rate.

His mood dropped considerably, eyeing up the large beetle in front of them. The temptation to keep the beast in his crosshairs was there, but he'd promised himself he'd let up if Aikka did the same. They'd agreed, and the frog had been more courteous that expected. And… the guy seemed a little bit more attached to his beetle than Jordan had thought. _'I figured it was just the Nourasian form of transport, not actually a pet…'_

Okay, maybe, just _maybe_, he was feeling a tad bit guilty for shooting at them.

_Maybe._

He felt irritated at how easily and sharply the creature could manoeuvre around the roots, but he guessed that was what their home planet was like, kinda. And, of course, one of the advantages of having a living mount instead of a mechanical racer was that they tended to avoid things like trees without any outside influence. Couldn't just patch up the hull or replace broken parts afterwards, though. And star racers didn't get sick, and so on and so forth.

"Jordan?" Molly's wary voice filled the gun turret, and her face appeared beside him. "You behaving yourself over there?"

He almost made a snarky comment, but she looked so very hopeful he couldn't bring himself to do it. "'Course I am. We buried the hatchet, didn't we?"

The restraint he was exercising right now was more than he cared to admit. Every fibre screamed _Crog Ally_ and _Not Safe_. His fingers twitched, aching to pull the trigger, to eliminate the threat _(without killing, just bring the mount down and, dammit, __**no**__, he was __**not**__ feeling guilty)_. Logic told him that Aikka wasn't that bad really and he didn't think he'd hurt Molly on purpose… but _damn_, old habits die hard and deeply-ingrained prejudices die harder.

But then Molly smiled, and she looked so happy and so proud. "That's good to hear, partner." And she sounded so sincere, and she called him partner. Made him feel like he meant something to someone beyond orders and missions and objectives. Suddenly, he found that easing off of the trigger really wasn't so hard.

"Yeah, well, Princey'd better be grateful."

She giggled in that way only she did. It really did sound nice, her laughter. "I'm sure Aikka will appreciate the gesture." She deactivated the visuals, and focused back on the race._ 'She really should laugh more often, she's way too mopey too much of the time.' _

Whilst Jordan had been preoccupied, Molly had pulled up alongside the Prince. He didn't seem hostile, but he didn't seem friendly either. _'Hey, is it just me, or does he look… apologetic?'_

"Um sekai G'dar shalanar."

He wasn't entirely sure what happened next, only that the frog had done something to throw them off course and miss the door. Molly had to bring the Arrow around to pass through, losing them precious seconds.

"Rude!"

"He's racing to win, Jordan, just like us. Take a chill pill."

"Doesn't make it any less rude and you know it!"

"Yeah, well…"

* * *

><p>Brushing aside the guilt he felt for using such a tactic against his friend… <em>friends<em>… Aikka kept G'dar flying ahead as fast as possible without overstraining the beetle. He had told Kross that he had come to win and would, and it could prove fatal to lean too far away from that. His kingdom, his _planet_, was little more than a vassal state to the Crog Imperium as a result of this 'alliance', and his people came first. They had to.

He just… didn't want to give up what he'd found here. In the Earth Team. In Molly...

G'dar shrieked. Over the years, he had learned how to read G'dar like they shared a mental or emotional link, though this was not the case. It often appeared that way, and there were rumours even upon Nourasia (usually in parts of the planet the beetles didn't inhabit) that beetle mounts and their riders _were_ bonded… but they were simply well attuned to each other. Nonetheless, _that_ particular shriek sent Aikka's heart thumping, _fight or flight_. A shadow fell over them and the Prince looked up, only to see a huge, bulbous plant come toppling into the ravine almost atop them, the roots holding it in place severed by a modified Crog Destroyer's energy weapons. Apparently, Kross wasn't through reminding the Prince who his "true friends" were.

Sometimes, mount was so well attuned to rider that even the direst of circumstances could be navigated out of via Aikka's level-headedness and training. And sometimes, rider was _too_ well attuned to mount and he lost his nerve himself. This time was the latter.

Aikka didn't yell or cry out. G'dar was screeching enough for the both of them. He clung to his mount, his _friend_, with all of his strength, but it wasn't enough. He was flung a little way from the beetle in the impact.

A flash of pain, a moment of blackness, and then the resigned young Prince was wearily picking himself up and dragging himself back to G'dar. They would not be able to continue the race; he could hear the soft warbles of pain between the shrieks of concern. They would have to try again in the next race, hopefully without prompting such action from the good General again.

He gently stroked his friend's carapace, soothing his concern and reassuring him even in their defeat. _'It's alright. I am well, and this is just one battle. We will do better.'_

He looked up, hearing the Whizzing Arrow's engines approach. He just watched as they drew closer… until the gun turret sprung to life, and fired above him.

Terror filled him, and he shielded G'dar's vulnerable head with his own body. That human would attack his mount again?! Not after their agreement, surely! To think, he had actually _believed _that—

_**C-crack— THUD.**_

A huge, bug-eyed creature with a shark-like set of mandible-teeth, at least three times the size of G'dar, fell beside them, smoking holes in its carapace where Jordan's lasers had struck it down.

Shocked anger melted into shocked relief… and perhaps some gratitude. Maybe. He was a little too shaken to tell at that precise moment.

'_We'll call it even.'_

* * *

><p>The race had ended. They had come fifth, scoring no points. Molly had been utterly miserable at what she perceived as failure, and a resigned Don had <em>reluctantly<em> admitted that he _supposed_ it wasn't a _complete_ disaster considering it was their first race on Oban.

Rick reacted to this negativity badly. Scratch that, he reacted _violently_.

Don Wei had received a smack upside the head which had nearly sent him face-first into the console, and a chewing out including but not limited to "What the hell is _wrong_ with you?!" and "Fifth is only two places behind a point-scoring position!" and "We can track the doors now, it won't be as hard working the tracks" and so on and so forth.

Fortunately, he made valid points that boosted Molly's mood and vented enough that _he_ was in a good mood too. Which had somehow, by some convoluted route, led to the team seated around with cups of tea and coffee whilst Rick bustled about the kitchen area like he lived there, making cucumber sandwiches.

Koji usually handled food, but Don had signalled him not to protest. "It's something for him to do," he'd explained quietly, "he doesn't want to feel useless."

The ex-racer looked surprisingly comfortable in the kitchen, humming to himself and working with skill and dexterity born not only of star racing but also practice. After a few minutes, he strode over weaving his way around assorted furniture, tools and other objects cluttering the way with balance and flexibility uncommon among most people, carrying a tray loaded with food as he did so.

Jordan was starting to understand how he was such a good racer. He tempered strength with grace, both qualities needed for such a career. And the boy was so often stunned by the omnipresent gentility that seemed inherent in everything Rick did. He was used to men of that size and presence being forceful and brutish, issuing both orders and punishments at whim. Rick, though, was by very definition a gentle giant. Even when smacking people upside the head, he was gentle. Enough to make his displeasure known and get the whole _'stop/don't do that again'_ sentiment through, but not enough to make you face-plant the floor. Not enough to really _**hurt**__. _Back when Jordan had tackle-hugged him, and he'd tried to push him off with a hand against his face, he had still been gentle. It just seemed like something Rick loathed to do, like he couldn't bring himself to even when he was trying.

Jordan found it both refreshing and a great comfort.

He jerked in shock and discomfort when he felt someone rap their knuckles against his head. Blinking in surprise, he saw the very object of his musings standing above him smiling. "Ground control to Jordan C. Wilde, come in Jordan C. Wilde!"

The gunner blushed in embarrassment, aware of the others (minus Don) snickering. "Uh, sorry…"

"No problem. I was just asking if you wanted anything else."

He blinked. "U-um, no, thanks."

Rick just kept smiling. "Okay." He ruffled the boy's hair before settling next to Molly and engaging in conversation.

Jordan's brain took a couple of tries to restart. When it did, he could only smile.


	5. Fierce Like Furter

**Oh my God. I am so, so sorry to all of you (if you're even still here oh Lord) because this has just been left for YEARS. **_**YEARS**_**. A thousand apologies will never suffice. But please understand— these years have been upheaval after upheaval in every aspect of my life. And I am here now, giving you this. It's not much, but it's a step in the right direction, and if there IS still anyone watching this fic, thank you. Thank you **_**so much**_**. Because you got me back. I came back to this story here on the site, read my reviews for it through. Your reviews for me. Telling me how wonderful you thought my writing was, how much you enjoyed the concept, how much you loved the story I was telling. I loved it too. Thank you for reminding me of that. Thank you for being so kind and enthusiastic, thank you for taking a moment to let me know, thank some of you in particular for sticking with me enough to keep reminding me via pm. Thank you all so much.**

* * *

><p>Rick had left the module some time ago. He had a lot to think about— the races, the 'Ultimate Prize', this planet, the shaman, the vision he couldn't remember, the nightmares that slipped away when he woke, the Timeless One and every other thing that needed figuring out— and needed some space. Plenty of that here; Oban was <em>huge<em>, and there was so much to explore. That... did somewhat distract from his thoughts, though.

There was more of that reddish foliage all over the place, more ruinous old temples. The ex-pilot had spent quite a bit of time wandering the incredible wilderness around the module, unable to completely rein in his desire to see _everything_, and now he was heading for the nearest temple; not unaware that exploring alien ruins alone (he may have forgotten to notify anyone of his absence) was dangerous, but really, when had that ever stopped Rick Thunderbolt?

Rarely ever, much to his mother's chagrin.

Stepping through the round doorway of the crumbling dome— connected to further, larger building work— he peered around the dark room. It was hard to see, hardly any light getting in through the doorway or the tiny window-like structures at the dome's head. Barely hesitating a moment, the shades came off, tucked into an inside pocket of his long coat.

Blinking into the dark, seeing much more easily, Rick could make out the broken, fallen pillar making a bridge across the pooled water inside. On the water were plants of some kind, big enough for him to stand on one of their three pointed leaves (he didn't test if they could hold his weight) spread triangularly across the water around thin, oval buds. _'Like if you somehow crossed a banana tree with a water lily.' _... A slightly odd comparison, but that was what it brought to his mind.

_Wait._

He wasn't alone.

Looking up swiftly at the window-holes, the man glimpsed a creature of some sort peering through before disappearing.

Okay, that was a little worrying— might be something territorial. Or a few somethings. A pack of territorial alien creatures wasn't something Rick liked the idea of tackling right about now. But... he didn't feel threatened or unwelcome. Once again choosing to follow his instincts, he continued across the pillar up to some stairs, leading up to a plateau of some kind. Whether it was designed that way or the roof had come down was a mystery, though as he looked around the remains of upright pillars seemed to point towards the latter.

It was much, much brighter here in the full sunlight(? Rick thought it was sunlight) and the shades went back on, eyes unaccustomed to the brightness due to the tinted lenses' near-constant presence.

He had his reasons. Perhaps misplaced, but once upon a time at least they had been valid, and he felt more comfortable with them on much of the time.

Wait... that one, that pillar— there was something engraved on it. Something worryingly familiar. Stepping carefully as dread wormed its way into his gut, Rick came closer and felt his blood run cold.

The symbol there matched the one on the medallion he'd found.

_The Timeless One._

"Leave me alone! Don't _touch_ me! _Let me_ _GOOO!_"

Snapping around instantly, he nearly succumbed to his fear. That was Molly's voice. Molly, in trouble, in this place with _that mark_ in it.

No... he'd promised to keep her safe!

"You're a _monster!_ A _heartless monster!_"

Boots pounded furiously against stone as he _ran, ran, ran,_ following the echoes of his Little Mouse's cries. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, and the coldness in his gut had turned to a fierce burning.

"_NO!_ NO _STOP!_"

The ground shook, rubble started to fall as he ran through to another dome— only to be met with a frantic crowd of little white creatures similar to that huge-tongued racer. They didn't react to his presence, focused on escaping whatever was within, which only spurred Rick on faster.

'_Hang on! I'm coming!'_

* * *

><p>Lord Furter eyed the pair before him in distaste as the dome began to collapse. His crew had scarpered out of fear for their lives, but in the end, he supposed, it was of little matter. The humans were bound up nice and tight, even as the larger one had regained consciousness; they wouldn't be able to escape, and their deaths would be assumed to be a result of their own foolishness, wandering the treacherous ruins. Which, in a way, he mused with a sense of satisfaction, it <em>was<em>. Excellent.

Turning away, he intended to join his crew in their escape— though in a far more composed and sophisticated manner, naturally— only to be unexpectedly thwarted by a heavy-duty boot to the face.

Rick used the little bastard as a springboard of sorts, intent on reaching the pair of idiots he was putting kiddie leashes on later, _damn them_, as fast as he could, grabbing them both roughly and bolting for safety. He didn't much care what happened to Pompous Tongueface, as he had a suspicion this was his doing.

Jordan was not having a good day. Dragged on a hike, dunked in a river, knocked unconscious by one of those embarrassingly easily-spooked little aliens, woken up again face-to-air with a very long drop, tied up to Molly with an earthquake going on, and now he was being bounced around in a mad dash away from a collapsing structure.

Well, at least they weren't dead. Yet.

Those freaky looking lion-maned creatures were taking a keen interest in them, after all. Now, after all that, they were probably going to be lunch. Because Molly wanted to go for a stroll.

If they survived, he was never going anywhere with her _ever again_.

His shoulder collided roughly with the ground— solid, unmoving ground— and he both felt and heard Molly drop too. "Rick! Quick, help untie us, before these things heat up the cooking pot!"

Wrestling himself into a sitting, Jordan turned to see Rick— and felt his heart stop. Molly was calling out to the ex-racer, trying to wriggle out of her bonds and go to his side, try to help him.

The large man lay half-curled where he had fallen, hands trembling weakly. Other than that, he wasn't moving, and he gave no indication that he heard them, or that he was even conscious. Damn sunglasses! Jordan couldn't tell.

One thing was clear; even as he worked his wrists free and started to untie both himself and Molly, Jordan knew they weren't going anywhere fast with Rick like this. And those gaping-mouthed monsters were calling even more of their number, drawing in closer around them.

They were in serious trouble.


End file.
